


no burning hate, no bitter fear

by alderations



Series: Whumptober/Mechtober 2020 [2]
Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Human Experimentation, Hurt No Comfort, Protectiveness, Self-Hatred, Whump, Whumptober 2020, toy soldier ordered to do things it Really Doesn't Want To Do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:20:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26787343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alderations/pseuds/alderations
Summary: “I would like you to make a decision, Soldier. Is that too complex for your machinery? One or two. First mate or engineer.”(Whumptober Day 2: "pick who dies"/kidnapped; Mechtober 1-3: stars)
Series: Whumptober/Mechtober 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950916
Comments: 13
Kudos: 105
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	no burning hate, no bitter fear

This is a bad week for the Mechanisms, all things considered.

It’s been three days since Aurora had to reboot, and this is the first time that the Toy Soldier has even seen Nastya since then. Usually, that wouldn’t be all that strange! She spends a lot of her time in the vents and the rafters and the deeper recesses of the ship, and she gets grumpy when it interrupts her “alone time” with Aurora. But she doesn’t look good today—her normally sky-blue eyes are shot through with silver, their rims gray and cloudy, like she’s been punched several times. This is not helped by the fact that she is sitting on the ground in an uncomfortably sterile bioengineering lab, arms bound behind her back, glaring up at the Toy Soldier and the stiff-backed woman next to it.

“According to the Doctor’s notes, you two were her first successful projects,” the woman says. Her voice drops like tungsten weights into the Toy Soldier’s clockwork ears. “Therefore, I would assume that I have the most to learn from your mechanisms.”

Jonny scowls up at her from where he sits next to Nastya, his arms and legs tied together so tight that he can barely keep himself upright. The only reason he hasn’t already broken free, the Toy Soldier figures, is that it’s under strict orders to shoot him with an electro-harpoon as soon as he tries anything! It loves Jonny, but the electro-harpoon is  _ also  _ quite a bit of fun, and in any other situation they might be able to make a fun game out of this. Right now, though, Jonny does not seem to be having any fun. “You don’t  _ want  _ to learn from our mechanisms. Trust me. Last time some poor bastard tried that—”

“I’m not some  _ poor bastard,”  _ the scientist cuts him off. She introduced herself to the Toy Soldier as Dr. Yates, which could use some work if she really wanted to sound evil, but it didn’t say so. “I’ve spent years studying Dr. Carmilla’s work, and this is the first chance I’ve had to see it in person. So your condescension won’t get you anywhere.”

While Jonny struggles against his bonds again, Nastya narrows her eyes and glares up at Dr. Yates. “Our mechanisms are both internal. It would be far simpler to study Marius, or Brian, for that matter.”

“Like I said,” the doctor reiterates, “you were the first two, and therefore the most… accessible for a student, as it were. You can learn more from a master’s mistakes than from their masterpieces.”

Nastya flinches at the word  _ mistakes.  _ She doesn’t know this, but Dr. Yates has already spent some time tinkering with Brian, the Toy Soldier at hand to administer substantial jolts of electricity should he make any attempt to escape! It did hope that Brian would forgive it for that. He didn’t seem to be enjoying himself.

“You want the first, then? Fine. Cut me open and look at my stupid heart, you wouldn’t be the first,” snarls Jonny.

With a cold frown, Dr. Yates turns to the Toy Soldier. “I think I could learn quite a bit from either of you, but I don’t have much time before the interplanetary authorities realize that my ship is not supposed to be here, and they’re a bit draconian in this sector. So you, Toy Soldier, are going to make the choice for me.”

It stares at her for a moment, painted grin twisting in confusion. Choices are not its strong suit! It will do as she says, of course, because she’s an awfully commanding woman, but she didn’t really  _ order  _ it to choose. “What Would You Like Me To Do, Ma’am?” it asks uncertainly.

Jonny cuts her off before she can answer. “Me. I’m the first, I just said. Whatever the fuck you’re going to do, just do it to me, I’ll—”

“Shock him.” The Toy Soldier does what it’s told, delivering a hefty voltage into Jonny’s side as he tells and thrashes to get away from it. “I would  _ like  _ you to make a decision, Soldier. Is that too complex for your machinery? One or two. First mate or engineer.”

It looks down at its crewmates, taking in their facial expressions for all the good it’ll do. Jonny is panting, blood shining on his lips from where he apparently bit his tongue, and every inch of him would appear defiant if it weren’t for the desperation in his eyes. The Toy Soldier knows him well enough to identify that much. Next to him, Nastya sits curled around herself and bites back tears. Her skin is ghostly pale and her eyes won’t focus on anything, and the Toy Soldier can see the way her chest shakes from her increasingly panicked breaths. All at once, it remembers the day after it met Carmilla—walking into her lab when she requested an assistant, only to find Nastya a sobbing mess in a puddle of silver, barely conscious enough to hear Carmilla reassuring her that  _ it’s okay, it’s just routine maintenance, your cybernetics have gotten buggy since I’ve been gone. _ It has to wonder if Nastya’s reliving the same memory. But then it looks back at Jonny, and remembers that same day, the first time it held his mechanical heart in his hands and listened to him sling indecipherable curses at it through his drugged-out haze.

This day hasn’t exactly been all fun and games so far, but looking between Jonny and Nastya again, the Toy Soldier  _ really  _ wants to tell Dr. Yates to go fuck herself. It doesn’t want to hurt them. It  _ loves  _ them, even Nastya who shoves it around and says rude things to it and calls it creepy. Well, Jonny does most of that too, but he at least offers it an affectionate smile now and then. It doesn’t want to be the reason that either of them has to go through all of that pain again. “I Would Rather You Not Experiment On Either Of My Friends, Please!” it manages at last.

Dr. Yates rolls her eyes. “Alright, I wasn’t firm enough. Toy Soldier—”

“I’ll do it,” Nastya interrupts, still staring off into the middle distance. “Don’t—don’t hurt Jonny. Please. I’ll—”

“God  _ damn  _ it, Nas, will you shut up? I can take it. I’ve dealt with far worse. You’re still recovering from the last time some fucker tried to capture us, Nastya.”

Her eyes finally snap to his. “Will you let me take the fall for you just  _ once?” _

“Shut  _ up!”  _ Dr. Yates shouts, bringing their argument to an abrupt end. “Toy Soldier. If you can’t choose, I’m going to  _ make  _ you choose. Here, I should have…” She digs around in the pocket of her lab coat for a moment, then presents the Toy Soldier with a shiny copper coin that makes a pleasant  _ clink  _ as it drops into its hand. “Heads for the first mate, tails for the engineer. Flip the coin.”

For once, the Toy Soldier really wishes its smile weren’t painted on. It wants to frown and snarl and  _ fight  _ the woman standing next to it, but instead it circuits lock up and chest goes tight, while its arm moves as if controlled by an invisible puppeteer. The coin spins in the air, lands in its hand, smacks onto its other arm. If it could, it would drag out this moment—maybe someone will come to their rescue, maybe Nastya will wiggle her way free of the ropes, maybe Jonny will just start  _ eating  _ the mad scientist lady—but none of that happens before the Toy Soldier lifts its hand to find a tiny picture of a tree staring up at it.

“Tails,” it says, robotic and unbidden.

Dr. Yates takes the coin back without a word, then stalks over to Nastya and pulls a razor blade out of her pocket, which she uses to slash the ropes binding her legs. “Get up.”

“Stop,” Jonny yells. “Fucking— _ stop!  _ Leave her alone!”

Nastya doesn’t look at Jonny as she staggers to her feet and walks over to the exam table on the far side of the lab, Dr. Yates’s hands on her shoulders in a pallid imitation of Carmilla’s cold embrace. As soon as Nastya is strapped to the table, the doctor turns back to the Toy Soldier and tosses it a rag from a bin next to some indecipherable machine.

“Gag him. Can’t have him trying to give you commands while I’m busy.”

It complies, barely avoiding Jonny’s gnashing teeth as he bites at every finger that gets anywhere near his mouth. “Fucking asshole, goddamn clockwork piece of  _ shit  _ I’m going to throw you out of— _ mmph!” _

“I’m Sorry, First Mate Jonny!” it apologizes. “If Only There Were Some Other Way To Command Me!” These last few words are quieter, enough so that Dr. Yates can’t hear it under the sounds of machinery around them, and the Toy Soldier punctuates the sentence with a sharp and overdramatic salute.

It knows that he can fingerspell in half a dozen sign languages, and if anyone can override a command with gestures alone, it’s Jonny. Unfortunately, as the doctor revs some kind of Drill and Nastya begins to scream, the spark of realization that the Toy Soldier hoped for never comes. He glares at it, rag stuffed in his mouth, shoulders heaving with silent sobs, while Nastya’s blood swirls across the exam table and reflects the harsh fluorescent lights in a galaxy of dripping silver. The first few drops hit the floor of the lab like the first stars to come out at sunset, and the Toy Soldier thinks that it might throw  _ itself  _ out of the fucking airlock once they get out of here, because that’s what it deserves.

**Author's Note:**

> I've wanted to use the Hurt No Comfort tag for SO LONG. mwahahah. (don't worry, like 30 seconds later Jonny's gonna come to his senses and aggressively fingerspell at TS to do some murder and everything will be fine. or another Mech will come barreling in like the fuckin koolaid man. I just didn't feel like writing that! It's past my bedtime.)
> 
> anyway... hope you're all having fun ;3c I will be sitting around rattling my little comment jar in hopes of, uh, being yelled at for my cruelty, probably. thank you for reading and take care of yourselves <3
> 
> oh also thank you marius spidersilkties for pulling out the Mad Scientist Name Generator for me,


End file.
